A Hundred Moments in Time
by DraconoBlade
Summary: Gilbert and Matthew and a hundred different stories. What more could we ask for? Maybe for it to end up being complete... PruCan, Yaoi, and the 100 theme challenge. Inspired by Sweet Jelly Hearts and her story "A Long Way to Go". Currently In-Progress.
1. Introduction

**A/N: Hey there! :D This is the author, DraconoBlade. Formerly known as DraconoTheIndecisive, but I have trouble typing that, and DraconoBlade is SO much awesomer. So, I have this OTP. And that OTP is PruCan. :D I know it's not the most popular, but... I can't help it! They are SOOOO adorable together *sob*. With this OTP, I have decided to try the 100 themes challenge, and focus it all on PruCan. (SO MUCH PRUCAN YOU CAN'T HANDLE THIS MUAHAHAHAHAHA). **

**Some of you may be familiar with the story "A Long Way to Go" by Sweet Jelly Hearts****. I PM'd her and asked permission to post this story using the same list, on the conditions that I would not steal any of her ideas for any of the chapters. I promised I wouldn't. Besides, you should go check out that story, it's amazing, and my inspiration for this one. :)**

**So, on to the story, and let it be AWESOME! :D (And a long one, holy CRAP, it's going to take me forever, but I'll stick with it... slowly but surely...)**

***Ahem* ONWARD, MY LOYAL GILBIRDS!**

**Chapter 1: Introduction**

* * *

When he had been told he would be working with another student who was "different", he had no idea what to expect. Thinking back on that moment, he realized that out of all the things he _could _have expected, it was surely not the boy sitting in front of him now.

It was Gilbert's rowdy behavior in school that had landed him with the guidance counselor's instructions to become friends with this boy. He had, of course, protested at first, and with quite the lewd language at that. He had brushed their concerns for his well-being off his shoulder in exchange for disrespecting the teachers simply because he could. Sure, he knew that they were worried about him, as he had no parents to guide him through the harsher sections in life, namely high school, but he did not want their pity. Why would he? Nobody actually cared for him. They just wanted him to stop being disruptive and crude. They just wanted him to fall into their system and be a "goody two-shoes" so that the higher-ups would be marginally more pleased, so that they had a better chance of making more than the currently pathetic paychecks they had now. They didn't _really_ care about his grades or his chances at succeeding in life.

He scoffed at their ignorance, although now, he was indecisive. He didn't know whether or not to be slightly pleased with the situation or to follow suit with his destructive instincts. He didn't know how to react, and that was probably what they had wanted, so he was a little mad, but he couldn't really be, not really, when this boy who was sitting in front of him was gazing at him with those _eyes..._

They sat in an empty classroom, void except for the two students and a woman. Gilbert hadn't a clue who the woman was and he didn't care, she was only the one to lead him to the room and to the boy. Maybe he'd seen her before, maybe he hadn't. Made no difference to him.

When they had first walked in, Gilbert had been hesitant, halting, as he saw that the other boy was deeply engaged in scratching a pen across the worn paper of a leather-bound book laying open on the desk he was sitting at. He hadn't even glanced up when the albino and the woman had entered the room. From what Gilbert could tell, the other student was a bit on the scrawny side. He had a baggy red sweatshirt that hid this well. His trainers were worn and scuffed. He had glasses, rounded, but they fit his face well enough as far as Gil could tell, hunched over as he was. He could see the tip of a tongue poking past the other's lips, and his brow was furrowed. His hair was a light blonde, and Gil raised an eyebrow when he saw a delicate and strange curl sticking out from the rest of the mass.

When he had first been told he was going to be working with a "different" student, he didn't know what to expect. He certainly wasn't expecting this beauty.

The woman had gestured for Gil to take a seat, and he did, only for the boy across from him to apparently not give a damn and continue spouting written words onto paper with that determined look. Gilbert had watched the other, assuming that the woman would do something to break the silence that permeated the room. Minutes passed, and she did not move. Gilbert could only sit there and observe the other write hastily. He absentmindedly wondered what he was writing.

He cleared his throat. The other did not react.

"... Hello?" Nothing.

He sighed, glancing up at the woman with frustration, but she merely stood there, a bit far from them, with a clipboard in her hand, waiting for them to do something so that she could write it down and so that they could fucking analyze him like an experiment.

He grimaced and sighed again, leaning forward and tapping the desk near the other's elbow to gain his attention. The other froze, looking up slowly. When he locked eyes with Gilbert, the albino suddenly lost the air in his lungs. His heart stopped. His world froze. However the hell you wanted to put it, the other's eyes were damn beautiful.

They were so... _purple_. Amethyst, indigo, deep and light lavender and so many swirls of color looking at him with a look of surprise and he found himself a bit flustered, really, though he wouldn't admit it, and he swore up and down that he was _not_ blushing. The kid's face was adorable, soft jaw, a bit of a rounded nose, fair pale lips, and then there was the way that hair curl bounced a bit and glimmered in the light, and Gilbert couldn't make a sound, couldn't move. He was entranced, and he found himself unable to force his eyes off the other.

Then the other did something strange. He waved his hand and did a little wave, giving a small, albeit shaky, smile as well. Gilbert tilted his head a bit._ Curious..._

He glanced pointedly down at the book on the table and asked, "What are you writing?" He hoped his tone was innocent enough, and not too harsh.

Now it was the other's turn to tilt his head, a look of confusion coming over his expression. What, didn't he understand him?

"In the book," Gilbert clarified, pointing to said object as he did. The boy looked down, then back up at him, and then down again, before smiling widely and sliding the book over to the albino without saying a word. Gil raised an eyebrow and reached out to pull the object close enough to read it, spinning it the right way, before looking down at the page.

_Hello. _

Gilbert looked up at the blonde and asked, "This note is for me?" While pointing to his own chest. The other nodded and gestured for him to continue reading, a look of anticipation and nervousness taking over his features.

_I'm sorry I don't know your name. I don't know if you know mine, either. Someone led me here and told me that I was going to meet someone who was going to become my friend. I don't know much about making friends, and I hope that you'll be nice..._

Gilbert proceeded to inwardly snort.

_... because I want to be nice to you, even if you are mean..._

Aaaaand, now he was blushing. Great.

_... because I've never had a friend before._

Wait, what? The boy sitting in front of him, fidgeting nervously (and adorably), had never had a friend? But why? He was really nice so far... Gilbert couldn't see why others wouldn't want to be friends with him. Sure, he was quiet, but...

He shook his head a bit and continued reading.

_You're probably wondering why I've never had one, though maybe somebody's told you already... But if nobody has, then I'll tell you right now. _

_I'm deaf. And mute._

Gilbert's breath caught.

It was so... unexpected. The beautiful blonde was... mute? And deaf. That explained why he seemed to not understand Gil. It wasn't because he couldn't understand, it was that he couldn't _hear_ him.

_I hope you don't mind too much... You see, that's why I've never had a friend before. So I figured I would write you this note. If you don't like me, then I guess you can go now... But, if you do, I hope you stick around. I would love to have a friend._

_By the way, someone told me you were different as well. They didn't tell me how, but I hope that whatever difference you have to live with makes you feel more similar to me, in a way. I guess that's why they made us meet, huh? They wanted us both to have a friend. And I promise not to judge you for whatever is "different" about you, just as I hope you'll do the same for me._

_So, if you'll please turn the page..._

Gilbert blinked, but turned the page, and found a pen tucked into the spine next to a few simple words on the otherwise blank page.

_My name is Matthew Williams. What's yours?_

He stared at the short message before smiling a genuine smile, grabbing the pen, and scribbling his humble answer before pushing the notebook back to the blonde. The boy, now known as Matthew, eagerly reached for the book and read the reply, a smile blooming on his face.

_Gilbert Beilschmidt. Nice to meet you._

* * *

**A/N: Dude, I fell in love with the ending. :'D *fangasm* Gil is so SWEET in my mind you have no IDEA. **

**So yeah, give me some feedback please, or I won't update (and nobody would like that, not even me, promise D; ) That's probably an empty threat anyway, I love this pairing too much to not continue, and I've already got the next chapter written.**

**Don't mistake my laziness for dislike of you all, because really, I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH :' *throws cookiez everywhere* Gotta go, but see you next chappie!**


	2. Complicated

**A/N: Dude, I fell in love with the ending. :'D *fangasm* Gil is so SWEET in my mind you have no IDEA. **

**So yeah, give me some feedback please, or I won't update (and nobody would like that, not even me, promise D; ) That's probably an empty threat anyway, I love this pairing too much to not continue, and I've already got the next chapter written.**

**Don't mistake my laziness for dislike of you all, because really, I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH :' *throws cookiez everywhere* Gotta go, but see you next chappie!**

* * *

**Complicated**

* * *

"Dammit! Why is this so hard?!"

Gil snickered behind him. The Canadian caught the elusive phrase, muttered under the other's breath: _"That's what she said."_

Matthew turned to yell at him. "Shut up, Gil!"

The albino held his hands up warily from where he sat on the floor, a smirk on his face.

"Hehe, sorry Birdie. If you want I could help yo-"

"I don't need helping!" Matthew turned away, hunching over the object in his hands. "I can do this myself..." He muttered, a tone of dejection creeping into his voice.

There was silence for a few moments, and a shuffling behind him, and two warm arms wound around his torso from behind. A chin came to rest comfortably on his shoulder, and a pair of legs stretched out on either side of him. Despite himself, he leaned back into Gilbert's solid and warm chest, snuggling into his boyfriend who cradled him gently.

"Here," the smooth voice whispered to him, two hands reaching out and gently pulling the object from his hands. Matthew watched carefully as his boyfriend's mathematical mind was put to work, the fingers sliding and twisting around the colored squares with quick, purposeful movements until all sides of the cube matched. Matthew was once again put in awe of how easily Gilbert could solve puzzles that seemed much too complicated for anyone else.

The completed Rubik's cube was placed back in his hands. He stared at it for a second, contemplating, his gaze only a bit begrudging. Matthew admitted to himself that he was really jealous of his boyfriend's talents. That jealousy caused him to let out an indignant huff, cross his arms, and turn away from the albino.

"Now, don't be like that," Gilbert said, reaching up to tilt Matthew's head to face him again. The blonde felt his heart speed up as his lavender eyes were trapped by the other's dark ruby gaze. Those eyes looked at him with so much love and adoration... Their lips were mere inches apart, and their breath would have been mingling if Matthew's hadn't stopped.

The albino let his forehead fall against Matthew's, and the blonde felt the other's fingers intertwine with his, clasping his hand and bringing it up to rest on his chest, where he could feel his own heartbeat under his palm. Matthew smiled hesitantly, a small smile, and received an adoring grin in return. Those red eyes fluttered closed as Gilbert pecked him gently on the lips.

"Forgive me for having an awesome brain?" He asked after pulling away, the grin turning into another one of his famous smirks.

Matthew gently whacked him on top of the head before pulling him down for another kiss. It was chaste yet rough, showing both love and slight dislike, though he knew he could never stay mad at his boyfriend. Gilbert hummed into the kiss, amused, and responded to the action in kind, nipping at the other's lip.

They pulled away after a minute or two, breathing just a bit labored. Matthew, with a bit of difficulty, remembered what the albino had asked before the kiss, and slowly, albeit reluctantly, nodded. "Yeah... I forgive you."

A smile bloomed on the other's face, and a deep chuckle rumbled from his chest before he gave a contended sigh. The blonde shuddered as soft lips graced his jaw.

"Well," a whisper sounded in his ear before teeth nibbled it gently. Shivers wracked his side pleasantly, and Matthew let out a hum. "Danke, Birdie."

"U-uh... your w-welcome." Matthew hoped that he didn't stutter as much as it sounded like he did. His heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest.

A hand rubbed at his knee, slowly trailing upward, causing his sense to diminish more with every inch traveled...

A small moan was emitted from the blonde as he thought to himself that things were indeed less complicated than they had been yet moments before. And he couldn't be happier with the results.

* * *

** A/N: No lemon for you! If you want one, I'll write one, yeah. But it'll be another story altogether. I want this one to stay T.**

**And, I dunno, aren't Rubik's cubes complicated? I've never tried one... though I've always wanted to. :(**

**But, mathematical Gil? I see it. I don't know if you do, but I see it. So yeah. This.**


	3. Making History

**A/N: Before you read this, I must tell you that this chapter is full of nonsensical logic born from a mind that's gone off the deep end, and I'm not talking about my own mind. Psychological abuse will take place and I don't know how to explain it all without specifically spelling it out, so I'll just let you read it. **

* * *

**Making History**

* * *

The very world seemed buried in the thick white that floated lazily past his window. Amethyst eyes gazed out at the outside, watching the delicate snowflakes make their slow ways past the frosted glass to join their kindred on any flat surface available to the face of the sky. The white-grey clouds seemed to enclose the world in a bubble, they were so thick, and he could fancy that he lived in a giant snow-globe. _Go on, wind me up, give me a shake, and see what happens..._

The palms of his hands dug into his cheeks like they were pressing dough. However, instead of moving to knead the flesh, they stayed still, merely supporting his skull as his eyes lay half-closed and his mind meandered away. In his imagination, he was skipping merrily down a snow-clad sidewalk, holding hands with a shadow. He did not know who they were, but they were there for him, and they smiled at him as he whistled a soft and happy tune, and they made his heart skip a beat or a thousand. This was inside his snow-globe. _Wind it up and I'll whistle the tune... come on... do it._

He could feel the cold emanating from the glass. Rather, from the whiteness on the other side of it. Opening his eyes more as the mental image left him to reality, he peered intensely at the outside again, realizing something that he hadn't before. This something caused him to giggle with a childish glee, and clutch his arms with his freezing fingers, moving the flesh this time, instead of just laying it.

The world was a blank white today. It was a canvas today. He could paint on it, couldn't he? It seemed so inviting...

The whistle made its way out of his mind, up his throat and into the cold, stale air around him. The melody was not quite as smooth as it had been in his day-dream, because of the soreness settled deeply in his throat due to the winter. His feet began to kick back and forth in the air, like a child, but there was nothing stopping him from indulging himself right then, with a hop, a skip, and a trudge out the door. He couldn't help but feel gleeful though, giddy. He wanted the waiting to last longer. It was the best part, after all, the suspense leaving him craving for more, _more_. Anticipation, it consumed him. It was addicting.

And finally, he allowed himself to be led off of his chair, out of his room by his shadow, who had appeared for him, and he was gripping the air where his friend's hand would have been if he were... but no, his friend _was_ real, he wasn't leading him into his special fantasy for nothing. The world _was _a snow-globe, really. Why hadn't he noticed it sooner?

The wood below him soon gave way to snow under his bare feet. He hardly noticed the difference in the temperature against his skin -not that there was much _of _a difference; his house was as heated as an igloo- as he was taking in the canvas around him with awe and curiosity, smiling and unable to whistle the song with the stretching apart of his lips. The snow that fell from the sky was like specks of light, and wherever it lay was illuminated.

_Shake me up and see... what... happens._

And he was seeing, now, in the light of the snow. It was the perfect idea! Before he painted the blankness that lay before him, he had to mold it into the perfect shape. Make imprints and pits in the snow, change it, make it more than just a rolling flatness. The tune was emitted once more in a hoarse voice as he called excitedly to his friend before running out into the snow, feeling the cold wetness roll up and over his toes as he tracked ruts into the snow. His hands now scooped up the substance, and he tossed it up so that it landed heavily and burst apart in what seemed almost like small white fireworks.

His shadow joined him, smiling at his happiness, wavering in and out of focus. He briefly wondered why the shadow was blurry... but he couldn't bring his elated heart to care as he flopped onto his thinly-clad back and flung his arms and legs through the snow to create a sloppy snow angel. His friend made one too. It, admittedly, looked better than his. Why was his shadow so great? He almost felt bad that others didn't get to have amazing shadows like his own.

But then he remembered that he was now inside his snow-globe, and that no one else was there except him and his friend. That was reassuring to him; how nobody would have to be jealous of him for his talented companion.

_Just my shadow and I... in my world, where we can do whatever we please._

A wave of contentedness flowed over him, through his blood, and he began humming once more. Now, he just stood there, next to his shadow, whistling, and looking out at their piece of artwork. The song seemed to become muffled by the grey clouds from which came dancing flurries of snowflakes.

_Dancing._

He could _dance_ with his shadow out here, just like the snow, he realized. He reached out to clutch his friend's hand tightly. The other seemed to understand what he desired, and led him out to a wide expanse of snow that they had not yet reached in their playful plowing, and was still flat. He reached out his other hand to his friend and received the other's compliant grip, and then he began to run sideways. Both he and his shadow smiled elatedly, swinging in circles, faster and faster, and he tilted his head back and laughed at the white-grey, a pure sounding laugh that twinkled like the flakes that danced with them. He couldn't feel his shadow's hands, though he _knew_ that it was only because his own were numbed from the cold. He should have worn mittens, he supposed.

Finally, the shaky grip that he had on his companion's hands gave way, and they were flung from each other, landing on opposite sides of the circle. He laughed with giddiness while the other only smiled wider in his direction. He got up, tiredly, exhausted and cold, and began to walk back toward his house. He didn't look back to see if his friend followed. His friend always followed.

A few minutes later, he was scuttling about the small room. He soon settled on his chair, a cup of warm chocolate in his hand, steam rising. He tilted the mug back and drank deep, burning his tongue and throat and the roof of his mouth, and even his lips. That was okay, though, he assured himself. He resumed his gazing out the window after chugging the hot drink. He sighed in happiness while he looked out of the window at the snow, and the sun began to peek through the clouds...

This was when he realized that his friend was not there.

He sprung from the chair, whipping his head around frantically, eyes searching every corner of the room. He saw many shadows, but they were not _his_ shadow. They didn't smile or move... But where was his...? The other should be standing right beside him! The follower and the followed!

_I am the snowglobe. Shake me up, wind me up, watch the water rush around, twirling things into chaos-_

And that was it. He knew that his shadow was gone. His shadow had left him. Had disappeared in the blink of an eye and left his life forever.

He was alone.

Alone.

Like he always was before.

He was suddenly storming to the kitchen and he was able to locate_ it_ even through histear-filled eyesight. He shouldn't be crying, he should be laughing, _smiling_, like his shadow. With this realization came the actions: A giggle burst forth in his chest and escaped his lips, which were now curled up into a grin. It wasn't the perfect performance - no, nowhere close, tears were still flowing down his cheeks - but it was the best he could give to his disappeared audience.

He choked painfully on his tears as sobs wracked his burnt throat and as he rushed back out the door and into the white now bathed by the sun, trying to find his friend anywhere, _anywhere..._ in vain.

But the other was nowhere to be found. As if there was nothing to be found at all.

_Ha! That was all but absurd..!_

And he laughed. He laughed and fell on his knees into the cold snow that no longer felt inviting. In fact, there was _too_ much white; it could do with a little colour, he thought bitterly. He brought _it_ up to his arm with a shaking hand, and there was already colour staining his lips and flowing down his chin. From his teeth or burnt mouth, he knew not which.

He would add more of this colour to the canvas. He slid it across his wrist, watching his own paint splatter pleasantly and painfully against the snow.

Crimson.

His mind was reeling and his throat was burning and the song echoed from temple to temple inside his head, bouncing the white and red back and forth behind his eyes that spilled frozen water down his cheeks. _The other wrist, now. Take a deep breath, now. _

_Splatter._

His head throbbed with a pounding heat. His eyesight wavered in and out of focus as he stared at the snow covered in what he thought now was more beautiful than anything he had seen in his entire life before. And that beauty caused more tears to fall from his eyes, and for his breath to catch and then speed up. _Ignore the pain, now. Take a deep breath, now._

_In and out. _

_Yeah. That's it._

_In..._

_And out._

_In..._

_And... out..._

_In..._

_... And..._

_...Ouuuuuut..._

_..._

_..._

_..._

_(The dark... in all this white... but how...?)_

**_Shhh..._**

_(But the melody...)_

_(I hear it.)_

**_It's ok now..._**

**_You're home._**

_..._

And he lay against his canvas surrounded by his art as the flakes alighted themselves atop his eyelashes and his amethyst eyes gazed at the white sky once again, and his shadow stood there, now unseen but seeing him, singing the tune for the other's last moments and crying silently from eyes that were as crimson as the other's blood.

* * *

**A/N: I don't... really know what to say about this chapter... **

**Being half-asleep sure makes me want to write a lot.**

**~Dracono**


	4. Rivalry

**A/N: There is a bit of language, but seriously guys, people who are even ****_present_**** on should be able to handle this. Oh, and Justin Bieber bashing where my own opinion is not included nor is it even relevant. :D**

* * *

**Rivalry**

* * *

Gilbert was bored.

Now, he could have been doing anything other than sitting on the couch next to his boyfriend. Heck, he could even be _kissing _that boyfriend. He could be off with his friends, causing trouble, or he could be eating pancakes, or playing with Gilbird. But he was lazy and didn't want to move from the comfortable spot on the couch. And it was snowing heavily outside anyway, and he didn't even want to _try_ to go through that weather to visit his friends. Gilbird was busy playing with Kumajirou, so he couldn't play with him.

And his boyfriend? Well, Matthew was sick, and Gilbert didn't exactly want to catch the cold. So no kissing.

Gilbert wanted to kiss him anyway though, with the blonde looking adorable wrapped up in a thick blanket and sipping hot chocolate. His nose was slightly red, and the coffee table in front of them was littered in tissues and medicines, but Gilbert really didn't mind the mess, just so long as they could spend time together.

But there wasn't anything to _do._ There wasn't even anything good on TV.

_Ugh. _

He figured he could help his boyfriend, just to have something to do, but when he asked:

"Do you want anything? I can make chicken noodle soup, or whatever you want."

He had gotten the reply:

"No, I don't want anything Gil. But thank you, really."

And a small smile that was the cutest thing ever, but that answer meant that he had to_ sit there _and do _nothing._ It was too quiet and still in the room, and that was probably really peaceful and stuff for his Birdie, with his headache and all, but it was hell for him. He needed something to preoccupy his brain.

_Do I have any books to read? ... No, the only book I want to read I just read a few days ago. Drawing...? No, I don't know what to draw, and I will never know exactly what to draw, and I'm bad at it anyway... I can't kiss my boyfriend, or even snuggle for that matter, but I really want to, but I'll catch a cold if I do... and he'll be mad at me for doing that... hey... what about video games? I just beat Kirby, but didn't I get a new Pokemon game a few weeks ago from Kiku? I haven't even played it yet. I should play it._

With that, Gilbert got up from the couch and went to retrieve his DS and the Pokemon game, which he found was Pokemon Black 2. Glad to have something to finally do, he walked back to the living room and flopped down onto the couch with the game system in hand. He flipped open the red device and booted up the game. Matthew looked over at what he was doing, and returned his attention to the TV when he realized that his boyfriend was only playing a game. He wasn't a big gamer himself, so he didn't care that much.

A few minutes of silence passed, with the drawling background noise of the TV drifting through the living room, and the fat snowflakes flew by the window, accompanied by whistling wind. There was the sound of Gilbert pressing buttons, and occasionally there was a sniffle from Matthew, but other than all that, there was silence.

Gilbert had gotten to the point in the game where he could name his rival, but he couldn't decide on what he should name him... Maybe he could ask Matthew.

He turned to his boyfriend. "Hey, what should I name my rival?"

Matt looked over at him. "I don't know, why are you asking _me?_ You know I don't play video games."

"But I'm having such a hard time deciding. Please?" He shot a pair of puppy eyes at the blonde, knowing he couldn't resist.

"Ok, fine. Hand me the game, so I can see what he looks like." Gilbert handed over the DS, watching as Matthew squinted at the small sprite of his rival.

"What kind of hair is _that_? It's ridiculous... Uh, ok... hmm... what about... John?"

"...That's seriously all you can think of?"

"Well?! That's what you get for asking _me_," Matthew huffed, thrusting the DS back in his face.

"Kesesese, I would think you had a bit more creativity than _that,_" Gilbert responded, grabbing the DS. "But hey, I just thought of a good name." He looked over at Matt, a mischievous smirk taking over his expression. "Tim."

Matthew flat-faced.

"You know, because of Tim Hortons...?"

"I got it, Gil. _Why?_"

Gilbert shrugged. "I don't know. But maybe it shouldn't be Tim, the name's too short... Jack? Like, lumberjack?"

Matthew's eyes narrowed. "Now that's just cruel."

"Kesesesese! Oh! Wait, I've got a better one..." Gilbert leaned closer. "Justin."

"What?!" Matthew shrieked, pure disbelief lacing his tone.

Gilbert began to input the name into the game, laughing the whole time. Matthew lunged for the DS, but Gil fought for possession, holding the game out of his boyfriend's reach. They tumbled onto the floor between the couch and the coffee table, still wrestling for the game. Matthew was furiously holding onto one side of the DS, and Gil was holding onto the other, each using their other arm to push at their competitor. Gilbert was laughing the whole time. Suddenly, Matthew's arm snapped out and pushed Gilbert away, and the laughing albino hit his head on the edge of the coffee table.

"Kesesesese- OW! SON OF A BITCH!"

Matthew wrenched the game out of Gilbert's hands, scrambling away and quickly pressing buttons while his boyfriend recovered from the blow. When he was finished, he turned and, with a victorious smirk on his face, slid the DS toward Gilbert on the carpet. It stopped next to the stunned albino, who grabbed it and looked at the screen.

"Noooo! What did you do?! It was perfect!"

Matthew climbed back onto the couch and snuggled back into his blanket. He picked up his mug of hot chocolate - which, fortunately, hadn't been touched in their fight - and took a few gulps, smiling. "You crossed a line, Gil. I had to fix it."

"You can't fix Justin Bieber, Birdie, you've already made that mistake." Gilbert said as he got up and sat back down on the couch. Matthew reached over and smacked his boyfriend upside the back of his head, eliciting a hiss of pain.

"You know darn well that I can't control who's born in my country, Gil. Besides, he's with Alfred now, he's not my problem anymore." He said to Gil, who was cradling his hurt head.

"That's true... your brother must internally hate you, hehe... oww..."

Matthew's brow furrowed and he reached for his boyfriend. "Gil? Did you really hit your head that hard?"

"Yeah, it freaking hurts. Ow, it's even throbbing." Matthew enveloped his boyfriend in a sideways hug.

"I'm sorry Gil."

"It's ok, it's not your... what's on your hand?"

"Hm?" Matt looked at his hands. "What do you mean?"

Gilbert pulled away from the hug and grabbed Matthew's right hand, which had been used to hit his head. He inspected it closely, and his eyes widened.

"What? What is it?" Matthew asked worriedly.

Gilbert pointed to a blotch of red on his palm. Their shocked gazes locked, and Gilbert reached up with his own hand to gingerly touch the back of his head. When he pulled it back, the fingers were smeared with blood.

"Oh shit."

Well, they had something to do _now_, at least.

**A/N: The only thing I could think of when I looked at the title was rivals from Pokemon games. I'm such a big Pokemon fan. ^^;**

**My apologies to any Justin Bieber fans who read this. I actually don't listen to any of his music, so for all I know, I could like it. I'm just following the large opinion of the internet for the purpose of humor, but if it isn't funny, I'm sorry. :/ I'm not practiced in writing humor.**


	5. Unbreakable

**Unbreakable**

* * *

The gunshots that pierced the air rang in his ears. Bullets whizzed toward him from every angle. Commotion swirled around him, surrounding him, blocking his escape in every direction.

_Gilbert, where's Gilbert, I have to find him-!_

He spun quickly when he heard somebody cry out in pain. The blood of a soldier splattered on him as a man by his side fell. The grip on his rifle loosened from his shock, disgust flowing through him at the sight of the red substance.

Matthew felt as if he were going to throw up. He retched, but nothing came out.

He needed out of this place.

The sky rumbled and rain began to fall from the clouds, dripping down his cheeks and plastering his hair to his forehead. His only thought was that the rain was warm; it felt like blood.

_No! No, no, I can't go down here-! I can't die!_

He clutched the weapon in his arms with a fierce growl, swirling to point the gun at an approaching enemy. His finger trembled, hovering over the trigger.

The enemy stepped closer; the outline of a man. The battle around them seemed to cease to exist. It was only them.

"You won't do it." A confident and quiet voice declared.

_I will! I would...! _His mad mind screamed. His body didn't follow; his stance faltered.

"You don't know that!" He growled, trying to sound menacing.

"Oh, but I do." The man sounded so calm. Collected.

_He's a senior on the battlefield._

_I am but a newborn..._

"How?" He rasped.

"Kid, you look like you've seen a ghost! You're new to the battlefield, aren't you, boy? I can see it in your eyes, wavering... Your hesitant stance..."

A shiver worked up his spine. "That doesn't mean I won't shoot you!"

A chuckle, deep. Familiar, he realized. "No, not necessarily, but..."

The shadow stepped closer, revealing pale skin, white hair-

(The enemy's uniform-)

"Gilbert!" The rifle clattered to the mud as his foot came forward. Just as quickly though, he halted.

"I told you. You won't shoot." Gilbert smirked.

Tears welled up in his eyes. _What is he doing... over there... on the enemies side...?_

A sense of betrayal flooded his system. He swallowed thickly.

"W-what... G... Gilbert..."

"Yeeees?" He sang out the invitation, red eyes stone cold.

He didn't want to ask.

"Why?"

The word burned his throat on the way out.

He flinched when loud laughter erupted from the man standing across from him.

"What, did you think it would work?" The albino asked him, his hair gray from the rain that fell in thin sheets around them.

_Yes_, he wanted to say. _Yes, I thought it would work, I didn't expect you to do this..._

He stayed silent. The tears, warm-

(_Warm blood warm_-)

- flowed down his cheeks freely. They caressed his skin as he fought out a reply.

"You didn't answer my question..."

Suddenly, a sneer bloomed on Gilbert's expression. "Oh, I very well think I _did_."

Before Matthew could react, the butt of Gilbert's rifle connected with his temple, effectively knocking him onto the wet and blood-soaked ground.

A heavy boot planted itself on his chest. He gazed up from the ground, dazed, and into red eyes. Those eyes seemed to glimmer with contempt.

Those eyes that used to hold such love...

A glob of spit landed next to his head on the ground. He turned his face away in disgust.

A hissing laughter rang out, and then quieted. "You're so gullible, Matthew. You thought I loved you."

_Yes. I did. I still do._

His throat was closed. He didn't know what to say.

"You thought I wouldn't come to hate you after I figured out what you did."

_But you don't- You can't! We've been together for so long..._

Gilbert tilted the barrel of the gun and rested it on Matthew's chest. Right above his heart.

_Do it. You've broken it already- it can't feel anything anymore. _

"You were wrong."

_I know I was._

The trigger was pulled.

* * *

Matthew shot up in bed, gasping and clutching his heart. He tried to catch his breath. Large arms wound around him, keeping him from rocking back and forth as tears poured from his eyes. He whimpered, feeling helpless.

"Shh, shh, it's okay, it was just a dream, Mattie, don't be scared, it wasn't real, shh, shh..."

The voice registered in his mind and he flung his own arms around his comforter, snuggling into the albino's neck, sniffling. Instantly, a hand began rubbing circles on his back- which he realized was bare. The whispered reassurances slowly calmed him down, until he was able to reach up and wipe the remainders of the tears away. He sat up, finding himself to be in his lover's lap... the same lover that had shot him only minutes before.

Matthew couldn't help but tense in Gilbert's hold. Immediately, the Prussian became concerned.

"Shh... Matthew? What's wrong...?"

The blonde shook his head, not able to meet those red eyes. Smooth fingers caressed his face, and despite himself, he leaned into the touch. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself further. _It's ok... it's Gilbert, the one that loves you... You're safe._

"Shh, you're safe Mattie..." Gilbert whispered softly, as if reading his thoughts. "Do you... want to talk about it?"

Matthew sighed and leaned into the silveret's embrace once again, looking for more reassurance. Gilbert didn't hesitate to pour affection on his smaller lover, desperately hoping to gain the blonde's trust enough to learn what was wrong with the love of his life.

Eventually, Gilbert was able to gently coax Matthew enough to at least look at him; the albino couldn't bear it when those beautiful lavender eyes refused to meet his. When Matthew's eyes connected finally with his, he could see watery pools of tears well up and threaten to fall again, and he cautiously reached a hand up and gently wiped the tears from the corners of the other's eyes. He found himself whispering again, had not even realized that he had started.

"Matthew, I love you, what's wrong...? I love you so much, won't you tell me...? Please...? I love you..."

The blonde opened his mouth hesitantly, and let out a breath. Then, "... I know. I love you too..."

Gilbert leaned in and gave Matthew a soft, lingering kiss, stealing his breath.

_I don't want to tell him..._

The blonde battled with himself in his mind. He thought that Gilbert had every right to know, but... he didn't want to hurt his lover by telling him that in his dream... he had killed him.

Matthew opened his eyes that had slipped closed during the chaste kiss, and looked up almost pleadingly at the albino. Those red eyes... he thought that they would remind him of his dream - no, his _nightmare_ - too much, that they would make him begin to cry again. But they hadn't. These red eyes were overflowing with nothing but affection, concern, sorrow, hope...

And love.

_I think I will, though._

"I-In... In my dream... we were in a war."

Gilbert's eyebrows furrowed, but he kept quiet and gave a small nod, listening intently.

"I... You were an enemy..."

Surprise flickered in those red orbs. "...And...?"

"I couldn't shoot you, of course." Matthew rushed to assure the silveret that he would never do such a thing.

A small smile - genuine. "I know that, Birdie."

"But... you..."

A pause.

"You told me you didn't love me... and... k-killed me..." Matthew had to force the words out of his closing throat as more tears slipped down his cheeks, unbidden.

Instantly, he was enveloped in a tight embrace, with Gilbert's face buried in his neck as he murmured and kissed the skin. "No, Matthew, don't think that, I would never leave you, shh, don't cry, it was only a nightmare." He drew himself up and looked the blonde straight in his eyes. "I love you. So much. Don't ever think that I won't. _Ich werde dich nie verlassen. Sie mir die Welt sind. Ich liebe dich, mein kleiner Vogel."_

_"Je sais. Je t'aime trop, beaucoup. Vous promets que vous ne me quittera jamais?"_

_"Ich verspreche."_

Matthew sniffed, and the tears slowed and stopped. He gave a small smile, knowing in his heart that everything was going to be fine- that it always had been fine. A wonderful fluttering sensation plagued his heart, and his smile widened as he leaned in to kiss once again the man that he would spend the rest of his life with.

* * *

**Translations:**

_Ich werde dich nie verlassen. Sie mir die Welt sind. Ich liebe dich, mein kleiner Vogel: _I will never leave you. You are the world to me. I love you, my little bird (Birdie).** German**

_Je sais. Je t'aime trop, beaucoup. Vous promets que vous ne me quittera jamais?:_ I know. I love you too, so much. Promise you will never leave me?** French**

_Ich verspreche:_ I promise.** German**

**All of my translations are courtesy of asking Google stuff like: "How to say _ in _", so I'm sure there are some errors, but I'm not too worried about them. I don't want to insult any language- in fact I love languages, I'm learning Latin- but I think enough is understood to get the point across.**

**So, I've been slacking off on a lot of stuff lately. I'm unmotivated. Becoming single right before Valentine's day will do that to you. But I'll try to post a bit more. Maybe I'll post a one-shot for Valentine's day even though I won't be celebrating it myself. Oh, and my birthday's coming up too, I want to post something especially for that day, so look forward to that. :)**

**But, I'm also working on a drawing for someone else, and I want to finish this GerIta fanfic that I'm writing for my best friend, so I'll be away... more. Sorry. ^_^; And my back is hurting like a freaking b*tch, so yeah, that's nice. It hurts to move, ugh.**

**Well, see you next chapter. :)**


End file.
